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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25314112">Hello, Anxiety</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kizaito_Hiruma/pseuds/Kizaito_Hiruma'>Kizaito_Hiruma</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Akumanette Songfics [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Miraculous Ladybug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood, Bullying, Hurt/Comfort, Self-Harm, Songfic, Unintentional adrien salt, he's trying his best, i mean he's trying but he's still a bad parent, slight Gabriel redemption?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:33:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,784</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25314112</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kizaito_Hiruma/pseuds/Kizaito_Hiruma</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Contrary to what Paris believed, Hawkmoth doesn’t immediately know who or what he’s akumatizing. He can only sense feelings when he sends a butterfly out, the person he’s akumatized and (vaguely) their surroundings. It's only if they accept that he finally gets eyes outside his lair. It’s inconvenient, but it works somehow.</p><p>Until the potential trump card he found was painting red lines on her arms.</p><p>Rated T and tagged with graphic depictions of violence due to self harm and bullying. Not romantic.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth &amp; Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Akumanette Songfics [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1756453</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>343</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Hello, Anxiety</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>Hello, Anxiety<br/>You've come to keep me company.<br/>Tonight, a lonely soul<br/>I've tried to learn the art of letting go.<br/>I'm craving something real,<br/>A kind of rush that I can feel.<br/>The night is rough you know,<br/>I've cried but I won't dare to let it</em> show.</p><hr/><p>    Hawkmoth can’t actually see very well. Even if his akuma has settled in to an object already, if the person still hasn’t accepted his proposal, the most he gets is the image of his Champion. Not like it matters, since he was smart enough to read the situation through whatever they felt. The worst he’d felt was when he akumatized a baby who had used their diaper. Not his proudest moment. Since he can’t see, he has to rely entirely on the Butterfly miraculous’s ability to sense emotions. <br/><br/>    He was reading on the month's proposals when he felt it. A faint pulse of frustration reached him. He ignored it at first, as it disappeared very quickly. Then came a second pulse, this time of regret. He didn't move, but he kept an eye out for it. It didn't take long for a third pulse, one of deep sadness, to reach him. It was a painful kind of sadness, one that could destroy Paris. He jumped out of his seat and hurried to his lair to track it down. Calling upon his transformation, he strained his senses for the next one. Fourth one came, then a fifth, then a sixth. He readied a butterfly. The seventh one was a particularly harsh pang of self-loathing. Finally, he found a tiny trace in between each pulse. </p><p>    The butterfly was sent out, a great evil riding on its wings. Every minute spent waiting for the feeling of a host drove him mad with excitement and hope. Then came the little mental click where he'd get the first glimpse of his Champion, and he was horrified by the warm feeling that overcame his senses. <br/><br/></p><p>    It was a young girl, curled up in a small ball under a bathroom sink. Her arms stung from numerous little cuts. The boxcutter she gripped tightly in her hand glowed an eerie dark purple. Marinette Dupain-Cheng, he recognized. A classmate of his son and a talented young designer. His accomplice had named her a bad influence, but the sight before him was helpless and fragile. She glared at the purple object she held.</p><p>    “Get out of my head.” She hissed at him. “I know what you want. Get out now.”</p><p>    This small child was, if he assumed correctly, was hurting herself, and she was concerned that someone was in her head? .... She was a teenager, after all. Still, it didn’t change the fact that one, she was injured and two, she did it to herself. Ultimate champion be damned. Hawkmoth may be a supervillain but he’s also a fully grown adult with a child of his own.</p><p>    "What if I said you didn't know what I wanted?" </p><p>    Marinette raised a doubtful brow. Rightfully so, considering she was caught at the height of her sadness in a time where simply getting irritated can lead to half the city getting wrecked. "You're a madman. You want Ladybug and Chat Noir's Miraculous. Ergo, get away from me."</p><p>    Something else flashed in her mind, though Hawkmoth was unable to see what it was. Marinette's breathing quickened as she dragged the boxcutter across her arm. On the other side of their connection, said madman recoiled from witnessing someone the same age as his son literally whittling away at her body. He had to stop himself from screaming, lest he startle her and cause more damage.</p><p>    "At least tell me why you're doing that."</p><p>    She seemed almost confused at his question. "Doing what?"</p><p>    "That." Figuratively punching me in the gut with a fistful of pity. "It's called self-<em>harm</em> for a reason."</p><p>    A flicker of confusion. The girl didn't understand why he was concerned. "Aren't you a magical terrorist?" <em>Still strong enough to sass me, though.</em></p><p>    Hawkmoth let out a sigh and did his best to soften his voice. "Are you asking me to be a terrorist right now? When I'm seeing a child right in front of me, barely into puberty, drawing lines on her arms?.... Maybe not the most convincing coming from Hawkmoth." A tiny bud of soft feelings. He takes that as a good sign. "I promise you, I will not even take over your thoughts. Please, child. Let me talk to you."</p><p>    He can sense the nagging feeling in her chest, outright spelling out how unwanted he was. Then came loneliness. Then resentment. It was like watching a tennis match between two sides of her. Where are this girl's parents? He can't really keep time when he's in someone's head and he's pretty sure it hasn't been that long, but surely she could talk to her parents about her worries? If Adrien had problems, surely he'd look for him too?</p><p>    ... No, he wouldn't.</p><p>    The girl was loosening up a little, but not quite letting him in yet. Her hand starts trembling around the box cutter. Tears were threatening to spill out as a very strong emotion tumbled around in her mind, all tangled up with some frankly unpleasant thoughts. Marinette started mumbling and Hawkmoth found himself becoming increasingly worried. Her thoughts were getting louder.</p><p>
  <strong>    <em>They'll be disappointed.</em></strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>                       Take the high road, Marinette.                                                                                               They're going to hate me more.                          </em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>                                                                   Is anyone there?                                 I thought we were friends.                                What if I lose my friends?                   </em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>                                        I can't do this.                                       She's lying!                       </em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>No one's here for me.                                   I want to die.                                                            </em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>                     Adrien said he was on my side.                                                                I'll be okay.</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <em><strong>I can't see.                                                                             Stay quiet.       </strong>                        </em>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>Don't let him in.                                            Someone please save me.</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>            I didn't hurt anyone.                                         I'm scared.                                                                           I don't want them to hate me.</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>                                    Everything's okay.                                                     Adrien is still my friend.</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>                                                     I didn't do it.</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>....</em> </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong> <em>Where is everyone?</em> </strong>
</p><p>    Adrien. Surely that meant Adrien Agreste right? His son was on her side? "Why not talk to your friend? Maybe he can help you." Marinette looked up from behind her knees, as if listening. "Put the cutter down, take deep breaths, and talk to him when you can. Your friend should help you, right?"</p><p>    The tight knot in her mind unwound just the slightest bit, and Hawkmoth didn't seem to care whether the relief was his or hers. With a silent good luck, he called the butterfly back.</p><hr/><p>    He didn't expect to be back the very next day. The body guard had informed him that he had just picked Adrien up from school, so he knew classes had just ended. Leaving the welcoming home to Nathalie, he made for his lair to look for another potential akuma. Hawkmoth had better senses than Gabriel, so he didn't notice the pulses until he had transformed. The pulses were smaller, yet more frequent now, so he sent out the butterfly in the direction of the Dupain-Cheng bakery. The insect wasted no time, fluttering as fast as its tiny wings would allow it and merging with a pair of scissors.</p><p>    “Little One,” the noirette looked up from her bloodied arm, “I am Hawkmoth. I’m giving you a chance to speak about everything you’ve ever wanted to say. I will give you strength to talk to me. In return, you will indulge me and allow me to help you.”</p><p>    "... Leave me alone." Marinette mumbled, doing her best to be strong. "I won't let you use me."</p><p>    "I won't use you, Little One." Not this time. Someone this self-destructive doesn't deserve that. "You will not change in any way."</p><p>    She was distrustful of him, and that was fine. He knew who he was. Marinette picked up her scissors and continued cutting away, ignoring the darkened color of the blade. Hawkmoth felt disgusted. He couldn't quite see it, but he felt the warm liquid slowly coating her arms. </p><p>    "I have to hold on..." She whispered to herself. "I can't cry."</p><p>    "Little One-"</p><p>    "Get out!"</p><p>    The short girl let out a sob, but she held in a second one. Her breathing was uneven and her head was spinning. Blind as his current situation left him, he knew the girl was a tough one. Hawkmoth didn't dare to forcefully take her. A few moments passed, Marinette choking on her tears, before she softened enough for him to sit comfortably in her mind. "Talk to me, child."</p><p>    "C-Can't..."</p><p>    She lets out a few more tears before she calms down. With a sigh, the butterfly leaves her. </p><hr/><p>    It was just one girl, Gabriel told himself. She would make the strongest akuma in history! ....No, she didn't deserve that kind of responsibility. Akumatize someone else? But Marinette was so powerful! But... she was a talented designer. A bit more grit and she'd have a bright future in the industry. He's akumatized children and adults alike, the mildly inconvenienced and the depressed, and this one girl was the only one to make him doubt his decision. <em>Because she's Adrien's friend</em>. Speaking of which, Francois-Dupont always had potential victims just waiting for a butterfly. He waited for the next day and sent out an akuma. </p><p>    He didn't notice any overwhelmingly negative emotions at first, but there was always something in his son's class. Their lunch break had started not too long ago so the classroom was empty save for someone with a painfully numb aura. He settled in their pencil, the foggy image of a sketchbook appearing before him.</p><p>    "You again." Came Marinette's exhausted voice. "I want to be surprised but you've akumatized Mr. Pigeon five times this month."</p><p>    "Not my best moment, but I use what I can."</p><p>    He can just barely feel the pencil move across the paper, but he can't see it unless Marinette accepts him. A villain he may be, but before that he was Paris's biggest fashion designer. "What are you drawing?"</p><p>    The noirette glared at him, best as she could without being able to see him anyway. Suspicion flickered about inside her, but she was more calm than the last two times so at least there's that. How could he explain his interest without giving himself away? "Well... I like drawing too."</p><p>    "Oh?" She sarcastically replied. "Well, good to know then. Now bug off." She hissed at the sketchbook, reaching for her eraser and removing her last line. Hawkmoth strained his senses but inevitably gave up when the blurry image of paper came into view. </p><p>    "Did you make a mistake?" His interest was now piqued, curious as to what new outfit she was drawing. Marinette scoffed at him.</p><p>    "What, are you blind?" </p><p>    He quietly laughed to himself. "Technically, yes. I can't see anything unless you get akumatized."</p><p>    Now Adrien loved to talk about his classmates, just not to his father. But every now and then, Nathalie would relay Adrien's stories to him. Gabriel was fairly confident he knew some things about Ms Bustier's class, but what he didn't know was Marinette's habits as an artist. She loved to share her designs, she was just smart about when to show them. She's a designer, it's only natural that she felt her work needed to be seen. A little bit of giddiness and excitement bubbled up in her, but she still wasn't biting. Hawkmoth could tell she needed a little push before she was ready to talk. The bell rang, signifying the end of break. It was only a matter of time before her classmates saw her darkened pencil, so he promised to return another time to look at her drawings again and left before she could even answer.</p><hr/><p>    He just kept coming back. The first few times were because he had hope it was someone else. After realizing he'd end up finding her anyway, he stopped hoping. He just steeled himself in case it was her again. Similarly, Marinette stopped hissing at him like he was disgusting, instead being mildly inconvenienced. She kind of just... stopped caring about him, like he was the least of her worries. Hawkmoth would be insulted but Gabriel took it as a win. At the very least, they started talking. Still no full akumatizations, but it was progress. If he caught her at a bad time, he would silently keep her company or sprinkle in some encouragement. Not that he knew what that meant.</p><p>    His latest butterfly landed on what he assumed was a small pendant and the familiar homey feeling of the baker's daughter told him exactly who owned it. Still, it was odd. Marinette never wore necklaces? Or at the very least, he thinks he's akumatized every object she's had except a necklace.</p><p>    "Like the gift?" She whispers. He can't quite tell if she's in public, but it must be at least private enough that she can talk to him.</p><p>    "A gift? For Paris's greatest terrorist?" </p><p>    "I said it's for you." Her sass this time was more friendly. A small blossom of warmth and appreciation rose from within her as she took a deep breath. "I don't like it, but you were... helpful, I guess. You were there for me. I can't give it to you, being Hawkmoth and all, but now you can talk to me without people knowing." </p><p>    Clever girl. She could've destroyed the city before anyone noticed. "I'm sure it looks nice." </p><p>    There's a moment of silence between them. It was a natural sort of silence, not at all awkward but certainly not the most comfortable. Like the silence between text messages. Gabriel liked it, and if he focused enough he was willing to bet Marinette was somewhat embracing it too. There's a sense of determination in her and her walls, ones she kept up so strongly this entire time even when they were about to fall apart, suddenly revealed a gate.</p><p>    "Would you like to see it?" This was it. This was his chance. He could akumatize her! He could get the miraculous he desired for so long! This was.... his chance to see something she made. </p><p>    The magic that flowed over her was no longer a creepy black, but an enchanting dark purple. When Marinette looked in to the mirror, she had scarcely noticed a difference. Her hair was still the same cute pigtails, her clothes were still the same grey blazer and pink leggings, her eyes....</p><p>    Were a beautiful, hopeful shade of sky blue. </p><p>    She pulled out the little pendant from under her shirt, a wire butterfly decorated with little glass beads cut like crystals. It sat elegantly against her palm, the tiniest sliver of sunlight filtering through her curtains and letting him see every detail. He was amazed. It was no professional's work, but it was something she put effort in to. </p><p>    "It looks lovely." He meant it. It was a lovely little charm.</p><p>    "Thanks, Hawkmoth." Maybe it was the akumatization, but she was so genuinely grateful to him. "You've done quite a bit for me since my friends left me behind."</p><p>    Record scratch. Or he thinks he heard. "Your friends? What happened?"</p><p>    "You know how most of them treated me. The bullying, the harassment. They kept stealing my stuff and destroying it until they just sort of gave up on me." She looked away sadly. "Adrien said it would be okay if it was just the two of us who knew. Ignore her and she'll go away, something like that."</p><p>    Impossible! Adrien was perfect! He was too kind for his own good! Actually, that might be the problem. Marinette continued, "I don't blame him. He's basically never seen the outside world. His dad probably told him to ignore rumors and gossip about him. It just... hurts so much... He's my friend but I've been fighting this all on my own." Something in Gabriel sunk as he watched her previously light and relieved demeanor gave way to a broken sob. "I need some alone time."</p><p>    He didn't mind. He would not overstep his boundaries. After thanking her once more for the gift, he called the akuma back. </p><p>    Adrien was scheduled to arrive from a quick shooting in about half an hour, but Gabriel waited patiently in his son's room. A room he designed thinking it had everything a young boy needed, and a room that was suddenly so devoid of life. Adrien was a very obedient boy, perfect from his looks to his behaviour. He thought all the bad influences were from the friends Rossi had reported, but he was suddenly unsure of himself. The man decided he would have a long talk with his son when he got back. Emilie can wait. Surely, she would want to come home to their family happy and developing, and their son having grown up even a little.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I was hoping to make Hawkmoth super cold and unfeeling and have him warm up slowly but I guess I wasn't able to ^^;</p><p>Edit: The song is Hello, Anxiety by Phum Viphurit</p></blockquote></div></div>
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